The Pirate Games
by A. Kingsleigh
Summary: Skills will be tested. Tradition will be challenged. Parrots will be trained. Winning means fame and fortune. Losing means certain humiliation. The Pirate Games have begun; step forward and volunteer. Remember who your enemies are (if you can), and may the odds be ever in your...oh, just try not to look like an idiot. Story #8 in the Piratesverse.
1. Chapter 1

**I HAVE RETURNED! NaNoWriMo was fun (I won, BTW. Yay.), but it's time to get back into the normal routine. I may be a little bit rusty, and I'll be working on two/three other stories besides this, but don't fret! I have an actual writing schedule now, and the Piratesverse has two whole days to itself!**

**In case you're wondering, this particular idea has been rattling around in my head from pretty much the beginning. It's inspired by a commercial made for Pirates that spoofed _The Hunger Games,_ which came out at approximately the same time. I decided to take this idea and run with it. Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

Ah, spring. A time for joy. A time for rebirth. A time for cutthroat depravity of all levels and forms. The pirates of Blood Island happily practiced such acts on a year-round basis, of course, but spring was the time for it to get especially nasty. You see, this was when the Pirate of the Year was decided.

On this particular spring, the line outside the Barnacle's Face stretched all the way to the other end of the wharf and back again. The little tavern threatened to burst apart at the seams from the number of people inside it. Some were talking and laughing, while others looked for gaps in the line and violently jumped at the chance to slot themselves in a little closer to the sign-up stand. One could almost feel the air hum with the excitement of them all; those who had not come to fill out their last-minute applications had come to hear the Pirate King's announcement.

"It's hardly moving!" Charles exclaimed as he scanned the wharf in a futile attempt to find out where the end of the line was. "Is he even going to get to the front in time?"

Scarf smiled as he watched the Pirate Captain, who was already skipping his way past the row of dark looks into the tavern. "I don't think he'll have a problem with that…"

"Pardon me! Coming through! Out of the way!" the captain said, pushing aside the masses of bodies and snatching a slip of paper from the desk of the stand. "Right, this is all. Carry on." Ignoring the volley of insults hurled at him, he made a beeline for the only empty table with his crew right behind him. "I put the last bit of ink in my beard, didn't I?"

"Right compartment, sir," Scarf answered.

Charles looked miffed. "I've been trying to find that all day…"

"Good man!" the captain exclaimed as he pulled out a quill and inkwell and set the latter down next to the paper. "Now let's see. Blah blah blah, boring stuff, here we go! Booty...roaring...shanties, rousing. Beard, luxuriant, as if they_ needed_ to ask." Reaching back into his beard, he pulled out another tiny inkwell full of red dye. He dunked the tip of the quill into it and signed his name at the bottom of the form with a flourish. "Do you think they'll take it for blood?"

"I do!" Albino Pirate chirped.

Scarf cleared his throat quietly. "Sir? Remember what we talked about."

"I wrote it down!" The captain showed them the palm of his right hand. On it, he had drawn a picture of the trophy and of their Jolly Roger, with a 'less than' sign separating them. "Don't get carried away no matter how many times Bellamy calls Polly a fat parrot."

Scarf let out the breath he had been holding in. "Right."

"I won't need to, anyway," the captain continued. "We've got these, don't we?" He pulled a lump of silver from behind his ear. "The others can clean out all the ships in the Spanish Main, and they still wouldn't have enough treasure to beat us."

They all flinched at the sound of shattering glass from the window behind them. "Did someone talk of plunderin' the Spanish Main?" Pegleg Hastings cackled as he poured a pile of gold coins and gems onto the floor. "Too late!"

Their eyes bugged out at the scene. "How did you even…? Oh, never mind."

"That's not much," the captain remarked. "Besides, you could pick it off the street if you wanted to _oh, dear Neptune's hangnail!"_

The other patrons gasped along with him as a bright, clear crystalline blade shot up from beneath the floor inches from Pegleg's foot. It proceeded to cut a circle around him which then crashed into the basement, carrying him with it. Glass broke, the unfortunate pirate shrieked, and then both rooms fell silent. A few awkward seconds later, Cutlass Liz clambered up through the floor. In her hand was a sword nearly as long as she was. The handle was iron and encrusted with colorful gems, and the blade was a many-sided, meticulously cut diamond.

Liz smirked. "Do you like it?" she said as she swung it around with ease before resting it on her shoulder. "It's three hundred years old and cuts through anything! Only one was ever made, and _here it is!"_

The Pirate Captain raised his eyebrows, but immediately pushed them down again. "You could probably smash that thing with a hammer. Couldn't you, Charles? We still haven't seen Bellamy yet."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than something landed on the roof with a thud. The ceiling rattled once, twice, then collapsed as a shower of gold coins came pouring into the tavern. It completely covered the floor, spilled out onto the street and forced the patrons to jump on the chairs and tables to escape it. Just as the deluge reached their ankles, it sputtered and thinned out until it was no more.

Someone ventured out into the center of the mess, right beneath the hole. "Is it over…?"

A black-clad figure jumped down through the hole and landed on top of the unfortunate pirate. "I know what you're all thinking," Black Bellamy said as he adjusted his tricorn with a smirk. "You can thank me later."

"What, are you trying to smother the competition?" Scarf said.

"Just giving them a little show, that's all. You can have all you want!" he shouted to the patrons, who were quickly getting over their fear. "There's plenty more where this came from. I'll even throw in some grog! How's that sound?"

They cheered, all except for the captain and his crew. "I suppose you might as well," the captain remarked. "You wouldn't win even if you kept it all to yourself."

"Captain, look at your hand…"

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "You planning to have another go at it, Cap?"

"I'm planning to win. Why, our boat's probably come near to sinking a dozen times, it's so weighed down!" That had sounded better in his head.

_"Sir."_

"What? Confrontation is traditional."

Bellamy calmly approached him. "That's all silver, right? You got it from a mine somewhere."

"Yes, what of it?"

"You know that doesn't really count."

The captain froze. "...What do you mean?"

His crew members slowly closed their eyes. Oh no…

"You've got to steal your treasure, you know. It can't just be handed to you."

"I never said it was…!"

"Hey, I'm just telling you the rules. You don't want to get in trouble with the king again, now do you?" Smiling in his 'all of you are less than I' way, he turned on his heel and walked back towards his adoring crowd.

"I'll ask the king what the rules are, then!" the captain shouted after him. "He'll be here soon enough - "

"Look out!" someone yelled, looking up through the hole. Everyone scattered as a giant pink shell further demolished the ceiling. It hovered a bit before landing gently and opening. Out stepped the Pirate King, in his white, rhinestone-studded regalia. _"HELLO, PIRATES!"_

"Hello, Pirate King," they mumbled, once again shaken.

He frowned. "Where is your enthusiasm? Are you not glad to..._GOOD NEPTUNE, WHAT IS ALL THIS?** BELLAMY!"**_

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Is this your doing?" the king snapped.

"It's my entry for Pirate of the Year, Your Majesty."

The king stared at him blankly. A deep rumbling began to emanate from his stomach which worked its way up his throat and burst forth as a hearty laugh.

"What's so funny…?"

"A fat lot of help this treasure will do you, then!"


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

A jolt of shock and confusion seemed to shoot through the room, and Bellamy's jaw dropped nearly to the floor. _"What?"_

The Pirate Captain burst out laughing at him, then sucked his breath back in as he found himself in the center of a circle of glares. "Er...sorry."

"Pirate Captain!" the king boomed. _"Approach!"_

With a gentle push from Scarf, the captain staggered to the foot of the shell and fell on his face. "Please don't shoot me or chop my head off or blow out my eardrums, Your Majesty — "

"_Silence!"_ Standing up, the Pirate King stepped on the captain and then to the floor. "You are all aware of the Pirate Captain," he said, gesturing to the man as he got up. "Surely you have not forgotten his actions at the competition two years prior. I certainly have not!"

The captain flinched and covered his face. "Wasn't taking the badge with the googly eyes enough…?"

"And I thank him heartily for it!"

"Please don't, I...excuse me?" He yelped as the king hoisted him to his feet and slapped him on the shoulder.

"_You,_ sir," the king said, "did us all a great service that evening!"

"...I did?"

_"Indeed!_ It was pointed out to me that no potential flaws in our system of judging the contestants had revealed themselves until you weaseled your way into first place." Shoving him back, he turned to address the crowd. "And to prevent such an unfortunate, insidious event from reoccurring, I am pleased to announce a fundamental alteration in the execution of the Pirate of the Year Awards! A mere measure of wealth is no longer an indicator of a pirate's worth! Instead of treasure, we shall have a _tournament!_ All may volunteer, but only a true pirate may win! _The First Annual Pirate Games!"_

Black Bellamy threw people aside as he practically flew across the room and skidded to a stop in front of the king. "I volunteer!"

The Pirate Captain rammed him aside. "I also volunteer!"

"I volunteered first!"

"I volunteered more dramatically!"

"No, you didn't!"

The Pirate King rolled his eyes and left them to bicker. "I'm a finer example than you are!" the captain proclaimed.

"Of what, how_ not_ to be a pirate? Because I'll admit, you've got that down."

"It's the spirit of the thing, Bellamy. The crew, the adventures, the fake limbs! Why, half the fun of a treasure hunt is looking for it!"

"And what about _finding_ it? I'd like to see someone else ride in on a whale."

Charles rubbed the back of his neck. "I wouldn't say that if I were you…"

"What's supposed to happen?" Bellamy asked with a laugh.

From far away and deep below them, something began to rumble. It spread across the water and engulfed all of Blood Island in an earthquake. The timbers of the Barnacle's Face rattled uncontrollably, and the piles of gold that the patrons had been amassing tumbled down. Outside, the line screamed and scattered in every direction except the end of the dock. The captain and Bellamy looked in the direction they were all pointing as they rushed out. "What on earth…?"

A large, dark green lump was moving rapidly across the water towards them. They gasped and stumbled as it leapt above the surface and revealed itself to be a giant, angry sea monster. It landed on the dock, slid along the walkway and slammed into the newly-repaired wall of the Barnacle's Face. Boards, stones and people went flying as half of the tavern came crashing down.

The Pirate Captain stared agape. "Come on!" he said, running back towards the scene while trying to pull Bellamy along.

Bellamy stayed rooted where he was for several seconds before following. "That…that's_ my_ schtick…"

"Is everyone alright?" the captain shouted as he dug a path through the wreckage, looking for his crew.

Most of them were brushing off plaster, while the Albino Pirate was pulling Mr. Bobo out from the remains of a window. "All accounted for, sir," said Scarf. "No harm done."

_"Who is responsible for this?"_ the Pirate King bellowed as he burst out from beneath a pile of wood. **_"Well?"_**

Everyone backed away from the sea monster as its mouth creaked open. The tongue rolled out like a pink, fleshy carpet. A shadowy figure walked up from the creature's throat and stood in the canopy of its mouth. "Is there a problem?" he asked in a deep, smooth cockney tone.

"In_deed_ there is!" the king shouted at him. "You have invaded my kingdom and obliterated a piece of my property!"

The figure sauntered into the light. He was a tanned, lithe fellow with a fair bit of muscle. His dirty blonde hair was long and tied up in bead-laden braids. The beginnings of a thin mustache had sprouted above his lips, and his teeth were sparkling. He wore a loose white shirt beneath a tight jerkin of black leather and even tighter leather pants. His boots were polished and gleaming, and a black bandana was tied around his head.

He rested a hand on his hip as he smiled at the crowd. "I can see that," he said as he took a small bag from his belt and tossed it to the king. "Terribly sorry. A little pocket change ought to cover it."

Eying the newcomer suspiciously, the king poured the contents of the pouch into his hand. Dozens of tiny diamonds.

"I've seen your face!" a pirate exclaimed as he pointed at the newcomer. "Aren't you James Finch?"

"I'm afraid so."

At this, the crowd gasped excitedly and began to whisper. _The_ James Finch? The one who had burnt down Port Royal and killed Dreadlocks Roberts? Wanted for two hundred thousand sovereigns and a million reales?

Finch strolled amongst them with a grin, letting his hips swing. "I take it you've been expecting a visit from me."

"That we have!" the king said, nodding to him with reverence. "I'd planned to invite you here for the Games!"

"You don't say," he said, unsurprised.

"A test of skill and cleverness! The winner shall be named Pirate of the Year!"

"Sign me up, then. Someone's got to win, I suppose. Am I right?" he said to the crowd, who cheered wildly. "I don't suppose I have any competition."

The captain coughed as he and Bellamy raised their hands. "Right over here."

He turned and appeared to look through them for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think so."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Bellamy snapped, getting in his face.

"Is all this gold yours?"

"You bet it is!"

"Overcompensation. Try a little less next time." He turned to the captain. "And cut off that beard, unless you've a fondness for raising vermin."

The captain gaped, as did his crew. "Don't knock the beard!" said Emma.

Finch looked her over, intrigued. "Shall I knock something else instead?"

If Charles and Jenny hadn't pulled her back, the punch she was readying probably would have taken out all his teeth at once. Not that he seemed to mind. "Come now, it's no fun winning if you don't beat anyone! We need some volunteers!"

The crowd surged towards him. "We will! We will!"

"Calm down, let's be orderly. How about we keep this at a reasonable number? We've already got three...nine more will put us at twelve."

"A fine proposition, Mr. Finch!" the king said. "I request nine volunteers!"

Nine pirates fought their way to his feet, Cutlass Liz and Pegleg Hastings among them. "Is this all of you?" he asked, examining them.

"Aye-aye, Your Majesty!"

"Perfect! Then follow me to my palace, all twelve of you! **_ONWARD!"_**

The crowd roared with pleasure and struck up a shanty as the procession headed down the dock, towards the jungle. At the back of the line trudged the captain and Bellamy. Their arms were folded, and their faces were turning red.

"I'll show_ him_ who's overcompensating…"

"He hasn't even _got_ a beard…"

For a moment, they thought the same thing;_ I've got to do something about him._

* * *

**You know, I just thought of something. By the time I finish this, it will have been approximately two years since the movie came out.**

**Well, it's about 5:40 in the morning right now. But it's also Sunday. Either way, I'll see you later. Cheers.**

**~ A. Kingsleigh**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

As the twelve contestants stepped through the front door of the Pirate King's palace, a pair of guards stepped behind them to block it. Only the captain seemed to take note. "Um, Your Majesty? That...that is just a precaution, isn't it?"

"Of sorts. Can't have you lot backing out at the last moment, can we?"

"...Oh."

The king led them up to the second floor and into a narrow hallway with six doors on each side. "Take your pick and come to the dining room in half an hour," he told them before lumbering off.

The Pirate Captain was thrown against the wall as the rest of the contestants stampeded past him. In a matter of seconds, eleven of the rooms were occupied. Only an ugly brown door with water stains and a split in the wood was left. The hinges squealed as he opened it and stepped into what had probably been an abandoned closet that morning. The room was but a few feet wide and just long enough to slot in a tiny bed. Above the foot of it hung a cuckoo clock, and that was that in the matter of furnishings.

Lying down on the lumpy mattress and wincing at the creak of the frame, the captain tried to pretend that getting comfortable was possible. Rocking back and forth as though he was in a hammock did nothing. The ticking of the clock rang in his eardrums, and when he tried to put the pillow over his head, he found it nailed down. "Who _does_ that…?"

The half hour crawled by at a speed that made frozen molasses seem like a bolt of lightning. By the time he heard the clock chiming and his companions rushing down the hall, he was nursing a headache. He stumbled out of bed and brought up the rear, rubbing his temples and plotting a daring escape.

A pair of servants pointed them towards the dining room, where the king was sitting at the head of a long table piled with food. There was a spot laid out for each of them, and a whole fish was sitting on each plate. The captain thought he saw his blink at him and timidly grabbed a roll instead.

"Tell me," the king shouted as they dug in, "what do you know of the islands surrounding ours?"

Bellamy waved a hand to get his attention. "Well, there's - "

"An archipelago north of here," Finch finished. "Six islands in a horizontally aligned cluster. Uninhabited. Large parrot population."

"Very good, Mr. Finch! We've been training those, actually. You'll need to send messages back." Picking up a bell, the king rang it loudly. More servants entered, pulling a board with a large map nailed to it. One of the islands was a jagged oval much larger than its companions, which lay to the west and trailed behind it like confused ducklings. "This, you see, is where you will be going! You will each have your own version of this map in the boats prepared for you."

Reaching under the table, the king pulled up a wide mahogany box. He flipped open the gold lock, lifted the lid and showed them a row of twelve corked bottles. "_Well?_ Aren't you coves going to ask what these are?"

Crossbones Nelson, a fellow of skin and bones and little else, raised his hand. "Special rum?"

"_Absolutely not!_ It's even better!" He took one of the bottles and held it into the light. Inside was a

rolled-up piece of paper. "_Behold!_ A map leading to glorious treasure, cut into twelve parts. You each get one. When you get to the islands, you're to hunt one another down until someone gets all of them. That someone finds the treasure, brings it to me and is named Pirate of the Year!"

The contestants jumped up and surged forward as one, grasping at the bottle. "Not so fast!" the king shouted, pushing them away. "I said when you get to the islands! You've still a week."

"A week of what?"

"Your training!"

* * *

The next morning, they were shown into the cellar - at least, it had been a cellar. Now it was a veritable gymnasium and then some. On one end were balance beams and fake trees, complete with paper leaves. In the center, carts full of cutlasses and other swords surrounded a roped-off arena. Another set of ropes created a shooting range, with targets at one side and stands of pistols at the other. Squeezed into a corner were a few bookshelves and tables.

Most of the pirates immediately went for the weapons. "Good, good!" the king laughed as they sparred and shot. "Surprise combat, _that's_ the pirate method! You are not to kill or maim, however! We must show honor towards our fellows!"

Dodging a pistol that Liz had rapidly discharged and thrown behind her, the captain inched his way to one of the tables and sat down. A thick old book lay open, and he started to flip through it. There were maps, information about weapons, pictures of plants and animals.

"A shame he doesn't think it worthwhile."

The captain glanced up to see Finch staring down at him. "Yes, quite. It's a wonder what you can find in these things."

"I suppose you wish someone was more lenient towards your type."

"...I'm not sure I follow you."

Finch nodded, turned away and began to amble towards the other end of the room.

What had _that_ been all about? Surely he hadn't meant to propose an alliance of some sort. The boy wasn't daft. _And neither am I, for that matter. He's a devious one. Devious and severely lacking in proper respect for beards._

If the rest of the contestants thought the same, they were more than willing to put it aside. As the week wore on, not an hour went by without one of them approaching Finch with a deal. It was always the same pattern; skip on up while he was resting, flaunt what they had, get shooed off, repeat. After the first day, they began to get more creative. Rum Morgan offered a lifetime's supply of drink. Magpie Eli claimed to know the location of a mermaid's cove. Ugly Mug Nancy wore her lowest cut dress, and even that had no effect.

"It doesn't make any sense!" Bellamy shouted to himself as he paced the hallway one evening. "Who wouldn't want what might be a map to Atlantis?"

The captain took a step towards him. "I would."

"I wasn't talking about _you."_ Scowling, Bellamy disappeared into his room.

"Well...fine! I don't need you, either!" the captain shouted after him. "I'll just do it all by myself! Me against the lot of you...against the..."

_I'm doomed._


	4. Chapter 4

**Greetings to all! I apologize for the lack of updates. The real world came calling for a few weeks. I chased it off with a flamethrower. Now on to the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

_**TONIGHT:**_ _PRESENTATION OF PIRATE GAMES CONTESTANTS!_

_7 O'CLOCK AT THE __**ANNE BONNY MEMORIAL THEATER**_

_ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY_

_BY ORDER OF __**THE PIRATE KING**_

* * *

The red velvet jacket stuck to his arms and shoulder blades. The belt was studded with glass gems and pulled a little too tight. A little red ribbon tied up his beard and turned its luxuriance to gaudiness. His fingers twitched, aching to tear it all off. "I don't know about this, Number Two…"

"Do you want to practice again, sir?" the Pirate With A Scarf asked as he and the others sat down.

Well, it was better than wishing he could punch his reflection. "Very well."

"I'll start!" the Albino Pirate chirped. Clearing his throat, he lowered his voice in imitation of the king. "Now, you lubber, what sort of terrible pirate things have you done lately?" he managed before dissolving into giggles.

"Er...let's see...I've had a few run-ins with Vicky." He flinched as the Pirate With Gout set off an air horn in his face, snickering. "Next question!" his lad said.

"Now, now. They'll give him more time than that," said Jenny.

"But I like this bit!"

The dressing room door opened, and an assistant stuck his head through. "Five minutes!" he said before disappearing.

"I think they've saved a few spots out there," the captain told his crew. "You ought to be going."

They nodded and filed out, casting worried glances over their shoulders. The Pirate With A Scarf was the last to go. "Just be yourself, sir. You'll do fine."

"You think so, Number Two?"

"I'm ninety-nine point nine percent certain of it."

"What are you still doing back here? Out!"

Scarf's protests echoed through the hall as the assistant chased him down it, punctuated by the slaps of broom bristles.

* * *

The crew members pushed their way to a table just as the auditorium lights were dimming. "Ladies and gentlemen," a voice announced, "the Pirate King!"

The curtain rose to reveal his shell, which he burst out of with a roar. "_Hello, pirates!"_

"Hello, Pirate King!" they shouted back, some less enthusiastic than others.

"Settle down!" he commanded, and the din of the audience subsided to a dull hum. "As you know, the twelve contestants of our Pirate Games have spent the last week training without relent! Tomorrow, their challenge begins! All but one of them shall fail miserably, but they shall all be able to say that they tried! And it is my honor and privilege to present them to you this evening! Let us welcome our first guest, Mr. Crossbones Nelson!"

And so it began. The first nine of the lot flounced onstage trying to look intimidating. As the king hurled questions at them, they hurled answers right back. It all began to run together after a while; all the talk seemed to be of plundering and ship sinking and who could shout the loudest. The most interesting thing to happen was Liz sauntering on in a dark red gown to a chorus of wolf whistles and throwing her sword between some poor fellow's legs. "I have no need to pretend that I am fierce. I am so by design."

"Good, very good!" the king said. "And why do you believe that you will win?"

"The men will simply give me their pieces. And the women? They will be too envious to notice me stealing them. Isn't that right?" she said, crossing her legs to thunderous applause.

Bellamy came out next, bowing to the crowd. "Thank you, thank you! You're too kind, really!"

"Sit down!" the king snapped.

"What can I say, folks _love_ me."

"Why don't you tell them what you've been up to as of late, then?"

"Well," Bellamy said as he leaned back, "let's just say the Americans are going to get a nasty surprise the next time they check up on Fort Knox." The crowd oohed with glee.

"That _is_ quite a feat," the Pirate King admitted. "However did you do it? What are your strengths?"

"Oh, too many to list. Next!"

The king rolled his eyes but continued nonetheless. "What makes you think you can win this competition?"

"Because I'm clever," he answered, a sly smile spreading across his face.

"We're almost done, I assure you," the king told the audience as Bellamy departed. "Next, the Pirate Captain."

The auditorium was nearly silent as he crept into view. The only cheers came from his crew. "Come on, Captain! You're going to be brilliant!"

"Er...thank you," he said with a timid wave. He dropped into the chair, trying to avoid the king's evil eye. "Lovely to be here…"

"What are your recent accomplishments?" the king snapped. "Spit it out!"

"I-I've made a fool of Queen Victoria. Then I found a plot to steal some silver and took it myself. Couldn't have done it without my lads."

"No one cares about your crew!"

"But…"

"Now, what can you do well?"

The captain was still in a daze. "I'm good with a cutlass, I suppose."

"And what are you doing here when you could be off someplace where you're wanted?"

"Because...because I want to say that I gave it a go," he answered, standing up. "That's all I want, really."

"Good, because that's all you're going to get!" The king pushed him offstage while the audience cheered. "And now, my subjects, the moment you have been waiting for! The best saved for last! Presenting Mr. James Finch!"

They applauded and looked to the edge of the stage, but there was no Finch. Then they jumped as the auditorium doors swung open. "Pardon me. Coming through. No autographs just yet."

"Finch, what in Neptune's name are you doing?" the king demanded.

Finch ambled through the rows of seats, smiling and nodding to the audience members as he passed. "I'm a man of the people, Your Majesty. Afraid it can't be cured."

The king paused before chuckling. "Good man! We need more like you!"

"I hope there are," he said, taking his seat.

"Tell us of your exploits, Mr. Finch!"

"Besides the obvious, I assume." He pretended to think for a few moments. "I took down a galleon and captured a dozen Spaniards at the Battle of Cazurra."

"You don't say!"

"I remember you being there as well, Your Majesty. Yes, you stayed safe on your boat and watched the carnage."

"...Well, what would we do if I was to be killed?"

"Quite true, quite true."

"Now, your strengths as a pirate, Mr. Finch?"

He turned to the audience, ignoring the king completely. "I make plans. I master all battles and leave my enemies in confusion. I am a leader."

The king was giving him a dark look. "And why do you…"

"I don't _think_ that I will win," Finch said. "I can assure you that I will. _Am I not right?"_

The audience leapt to its feet and began to cheer. "Finch!" they cheered. "Finch! _Finch! __**Finch!"**_

Now the king was glaring outright. The captain, who had been watching from the wings, slipped away.

* * *

"Fine thing for him we weren't sittin' closer," Emma muttered to herself as she stomped down the wharf. "Would have fed him his own teeth, I would…"

Scarf sighed. "Keep up with her," he told the others before heading back towards the theater. The captain was standing on the sidewalk watching as the other contestants met with the crowds before being loaded into their carriages. "You kept your composure very well, sir."

"What I am I doing, Number Two?"

"Er...standing?"

"Tomorrow morning, they're just going to gang up on me the moment we get to those islands. I'm doomed by myself."

"And what makes you think you know that?"

"_Really?"_

Scarf looked down for a second, thinking. "Do you know how they're supposed to be keeping up with you?"

"Parrots. We're to send messages back so they can see who's where and let us check with ours crews. So?"

"Just send us a note whenever you need some advice! That's allowed, isn't it?"

"Everything short of killing someone's allowed."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about! Just keep your focus on the game and let us do the worrying for you."

The captain laughed a bit. "Oh, you lot do enough of that already." He put a hand on the first mate's shoulder. "You're in charge if I don't come back. Understood?"

"You'll be fine, Captain."

"Come along!" an assistant said, pulling the captain away as another carriage pulled up to the curb. "You've a long day ahead."

The captain managed a tip of his hat before being shoved inside. Scarf watched it pull away and didn't move until it had disappeared around a curve. _Understood, sir._


End file.
